


The Fusion Job

by parcequelle



Category: Leverage
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stargate, Collection: Fandom Stocking 2014, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-02-28 22:11:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2749007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parcequelle/pseuds/parcequelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Trust me, I'm an alien." The Leverage team as SG-1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fusion Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kisahawklin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/gifts).



> For kisahawklin, who prompted the Leverage team as SG-1 and got me hooked.

"Hardison, duck!" Sophie yells this at the same time Nate yells, "Hardison, on your left!" and the combination of the two instructions translates, thankfully, to Hardison managing to simultaneously duck and swerve to the right and thereby dodge the incoming shot by a hairsbreadth. Nate turns and risks a shot back over the hill and it connects, sends a Jaffa sprawling down the slope, weapon temporarily useless.

"Hey," Nate exclaims, looking down at the zat gun in his hand. "This thing works."

"Of course it works!" Parker shouts over to him, long legs taking her two strides ahead of the rest of them. "It's Goa'uld technology!"

The Jaffa don't seem to be following them; they probably - wisely - don't want to risk leaving the Gate unattended, so when Sophie spies the shield of dense leaf cover up ahead, she turns to Eliot beside her. "Think we can take cover in there for a minute?"

Eliot shrugs, an odd motion while they're running. "Worth a try. Guys!"

They pile into the makeshift shelter, what would count as a cave if caves had no walls and were made of squidgy black alien quasi-palm fronds, and spare a few precious seconds to catch their breath. All of them except Parker, at least, who - obnoxiously not the slightest bit breathless - instead takes in their surroundings and says, "Cosy." As usual, Sophie isn't sure if she's joking or not; instead of asking, she turns to Hardison and asks, "Did you get it?"

A moment of fumbling in the pocket of his BDUs, and he produces the coveted item: a piece of technology originally created to aid in deep-core mining processes on P3X-443, that the resident Goa'uld usurpers of this planet have been using to vaporise people they don't like and thereby cementing their status as omnipotent gods in the eyes of the civilians. It's the same old story, the same old song, and God, Sophie really hates the Goa'uld.

"Don't we all," Eliot mutters and only then does Sophie realise she's spoken aloud. No harm done.

Nate runs a hand through his dust-streaked hair. "So, first thing's first: we need a distraction."

They all look at Hardison, whose eyebrows lift to his hairline. "Why are y'all looking at me?"

"You're the tech guy," Nate says, with an appropriately vague gesture. "You can do tech things. Right?"

Hardison sits a moment in silence and then grins. "Of course I can."

"So what can you do?" This from Eliot, less patient than the others in the midst of a battle; he's a doctor, not a field officer, and Sophie can comprehend the dissociation he's feeling. It's not like she's a hundred percent on board with the whole fighting thing either - old books and dead languages, anyone?

"You know when Sophie grabbed this from that guard?" He holds the zat gun up for inspection. "If I can reappropriate the power cells inside the technology to collapse in on themselves when I--"

"Hardison," Nate interrupts him. "I hate to ruin your geek-out fun, but we're kind of on a time limit here?"

Mid-breath, Hardison manages to look both put out and slightly forgiving; at any rate, he takes the unsubtle hint for what it is and sighs. "Basically? I can blow it up. But it's going to be crude and dangerous and you're all going to need to get out of the way before I set it off - I'm pretty good, but we're dealing with alien technology here, and I don't know how far in advance I can rig a countdown."

Sophie doesn't even have to look at the faces of the rest of her team to know what they're thinking; she can feel it, and asks the question they all want to ask. "What about you?"

Hardison has already started to fiddle with the device in his hands when he says, "I'll be fine."

"Like hell--" Sophie starts, just as Eliot growls, "God damn it, Hardison, of all the damned fool things--"

But then Parker says, "I'll do it," in her crisp, no-nonsense voice, and they all turn to look at her, wordless.

Nate shakes his head. "And how is that better, exactly?"

Sophie is on the verge of reiterating this question when Parker announces, "I do not understand humans. It's better in every way. I'll do it because I am just as able to plant a device like this as Hardison, and the symbiote makes me faster and stronger -- well, it's true," when Hardison makes a face, "so I therefore have a better chance of both distracting the guards and escaping unscathed." She looks at them each in turn. "I am the logical choice."

"Sure," Eliot says sarcastically, "if it's logical to knowingly risk anyone's life--"

"She has a point, man," Hardison says reluctantly, his eyes not leaving Parker's face. "She could use the creepy Tok'ra voice to throw them off guard, and--"

"There are no other options. We all know that." Parker's voice, still as steady and determined as her currently-not-glowing eyes, and Sophie remembers, not for the first time, just how much older and more experienced she really is - than all the rest of them, than she sounds, than she appears.

Eliot glares at Parker for a long moment as though he's about to object, but then he says quietly, "Are you sure about this? You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. You're as much a part of this team as any of us, and--"

"Eliot, it's okay. I know what I'm doing." Parker quirks a half-smile that Sophie privately finds mildly unsettling - is that _excitement_ she detects beneath the cool exterior of confidence? - and says, "Trust me, I'm an alien."

"That's a terrible catch cry," Eliot mutters, but Parker has already moved to Hardison's side, leaning over his shoulder as she observes his astonishingly quick and capable reprogramming of the Goa'uld technology into a bomb.

Sophie tries not to think about the fact that if she's a second too late or a heartbeat too slow, the everlasting grey sand of this godforsaken planet could be the last thing Parker ever sees; the fear settles sharp and uncomfortable in her chest and she shakes her head, sits straighter. "So what's the plan?"

Hardison is still working the technology, muttering curses to himself, and Nate takes the liberty of replying. "We use Parker as the element of surprise, take out the guards, toss the bomb in the general direction of the bad guys, and then run like hell for the Gate." He glances around at them. "Questions?"

Sophie wants to say: _what if it doesn't work? What if it doesn't explode? What if it explodes too early? What if Parker dies? What if we all die?_ But instead, she pushes her glasses up her nose and says, "None from me."

"Me either," Eliot answers, after a moment.

"I don't like it," Hardison murmurs, eyes still on his work, "but I get that we have to do it." He crosses two final wires and looks up. "It's done," he says, and turns to Parker. "This button will set it off; after you press it, you have three seconds to throw the thing as far as you can and get to the Stargate." He looks almost apologetic, an expression Sophie isn't used to seeing on his face. "There's not enough energy left for longer."

"It's all right," Parker says. "I'll make it."

"I know you will," Nate says, and looks a lot more confident than Sophie feels; she hopes it's his experience talking rather than his team-leader-bravado.

Sophie glances out of the shelter and says to the others, "We should get going. They won't let us stay in here forever."

Nate leads them out, Parker close behind him, and just as they step out into the grey expanse of sand once again, Sophie says, "Parker." She turns, eyebrow raised in query. "We're not going to leave you behind."

"Second that," says Nate.

"Third," says Hardison.

They all look at Eliot, who rolls his eyes and says, "I'm not saying 'fourth', okay? But Parker: we're not going to leave you behind."

Parker stares at them each in turn and then says: "You are all fools."

Hardison slaps her on the back and says, "No doubt of that!" and Sophie finds herself grinning despite it all.

*

They run. Parker uses her creepy Tok'ra voice to mess with the guards' focus, throws the device with frightening precision to the heavy crate of stolen weapons at the feet of the leader, and then lets out a fierce battle cry - Sophie doesn't see much after that, though, because she finds herself in sudden hand-to-hand combat with a Jaffa, who she manages to take out with a combination of luck, a well-timed kick, and an even better timed wresting of his staff out of his hands. She downs two of the others before the thing runs out of power, and she hears Nate's warning cry as the bomb explodes - she starts to run, but then strong arms close around her biceps and Eliot hauls her behind the DHD, covers her body with his own.

"Come on!" Hardison, limping and supported between Nate and Parker; Sophie stands shakily and dials home in record speed, protected from another shot by a still-standing Jaffa only because Eliot rushes forward and knocks him out, and then, seconds and eternities later, the five of them step through the Gate and into the welcoming if ever-weird wormhole. 

On the other side, they are greeted by General Collins, whose half-smile and dry observation of, "Took you long enough," is a welcome that proves beyond any other that she's just on the right side of relieved to see them. "Did you get it?" is her next question, and Hardison is already holding it up. "Excellent work. Hardison, you're limping - might I suggest a visit to the infirmary?"

"Oh, General, it's really no--"

"Should I rephrase that, Colonel?"

Hardison sighs the kind of long-suffering, I-have-issues-with-authority sigh that makes Sophie wonder again how the guy ended up serving in the military. "No, Ma'am." 

"Atta boy." She pats him on the shoulder, makes eye contact with Sophie and says, "You should all get checked out."

Sophie nods, realises as she does that she still has the Jaffa staff in her hands, and calls out to one of the junior officers she recognises from inventory to go lock it up. "Be careful," she warns him as she hands it over, suddenly exhausted. "It isn't charged, but this thing is bloody vicious."

The kid nods and diligently rushes off; Sophie turns to head to the infirmary and finds the others waiting for her, Hardison still supported by Nate and Parker on either side. Eliot stands beside them, off duty and in no rush, and Sophie smiles at the sight of them all - a bit battered, a bit bruised, entirely exhausted but together. Together and in one piece.

"What?" Eliot asks.

Sophie shrugs. "That wasn't too bad, was it? We managed to steal back a piece of stolen alien technology, steal and reappropriate a Goa'uld weapon, and steal and get away with another one." She looks at them thoughtfully, at Nate's tired eyes and wild hair; at Hardison's awkward stance; at the bloody graze along the side of Eliot's neck; at Parker's unflappable stoicism, exactly as it was when they left. "Do you guys ever think that maybe, in some other life, we could have made a great living as criminals?"

A moment passes as they consider her words and then Nate shakes his head. "Nah," he says. "We're too honest."

He's probably right. But in the privacy of her mind, Sophie wonders.


End file.
